The Journal: Raging Tide: (The Journal Book 4) Read online

  The Journal

  Book Four

  Raging Tide

  Deborah D. Moore

  A PERMUTED PRESS BOOK

  Published at Smashwords

  ISBN: 978-1-61868-622-0

  ISBN (eBook): 978-1-61868-623-7

  RAGING TIDE

  The Journal Book 4

  © 2015 by Deborah D. Moore

  All Rights Reserved

  Cover art by Matt Mosley

  This book is a work of fiction. People, places, events, and situations are the product of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or historical events, is purely coincidental.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author and publisher.

  Permuted Press

  109 International Drive, Suite 300

  Franklin, TN 37067

  http://permutedpress.com

  ALSO IN THE JOURNAL SERIES:

  Cracked Earth (Book One)

  Ash Fall (Book Two)

  Crimson Skies (Book Three)

  Look for the fifth installment of The Journal series, coming soon!

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  I’d like to thank my family and friends who have encouraged and supported me during the process of writing this series.

  This would not be complete if I didn’t thank Boyne Soozie for giving me the leather journal that started all of this.

  Special thanks to personal friends who allowed me to include their names in the stories: Bob C. & Kathy O., Guy & Dawn M., Pastor Carolyn, Dee Streiner, Ken Krause, Harold Wolfe, Marie, and especially my sister Pam and my two sons, Eric and Jason. My apologies if I’ve forgotten anyone.

  Another thank you to all the ladies on my woman’s group – you’re the greatest and I couldn’t have done it without you.

  And to Michael Wilson at Permuted Press for taking a chance on this unknown, unpublished author – thank you for your trust in me.

  Felicia Sullivan, my editor and now my friend, who has patiently sorted out my manuscripts and made them readable. Thank you SO much. I hope you know how much and how valuable you are to so many of us.

  Being Single is Great

  I have so much freedom!

  I have the freedom to paint any room any color

  I have the freedom to spend money I earned the way I want to

  I have the freedom to spend my birthday working and come home to an empty house, but it’s MY house, all mine, and no one can take it away from me, not even the bank

  I have the freedom to get up and read or write at 2am if I have yet another sleepless night

  I have the freedom to have soup for breakfast and oatmeal for dinner without someone telling me it’s wrong

  I have the freedom to make a mistake without someone telling me I’m stupid

  I have the freedom to leave the dinner dishes until morning

  I have the freedom to leave the outdoor Christmas lights up all year and turn them on in May or August just because they make me smile

  I have the freedom to avoid petty arguments that stem from jealousy or fear because we are both scared and uncertain

  I have the freedom to reach over and feel the cold sheets on the other side of the bed

  I have the freedom to be the only one worrying that the cat hasn’t come home in two days

  I have the freedom to spend Christmas morning alone, with no tree and no presents

  I have the freedom to always be the odd-one out at every New Year’s Eve party

  I have the freedom to ache for a sincere hug

  I have the freedom to cry myself to sleep at night because I’m so lonely for someone to love

  Yeah, being single is great….

  D. Moore

  To everyone who has ever needed a second chance.

  “Life always offers a second chance,

  It’s called Tomorrow.”

  Author unknown

  The world is shaking apart and the North American continent is at the heart of it. A seemingly minor tremor escalated into ripping the country in half at the New Madrid fault line. Shipping ceased and sent the country into a tailspin, with small towns like Moose Creek, Michigan suffering the most. Recovery came slow as the country pulled itself together, until another more terrifying quake hit, awakening the sleeping caldera beneath Yellowstone. The deadly ash thrown into the atmosphere decimated those who were unprepared or unwilling to accept it could affect them. The ash that now circled the world disrupted weather patterns everywhere, blotting out the sun and stirring up massive storms.

  Moose Creek survived – barely. Life goes on in the small town in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. An infusion of residents came on the heels of the devastating fire in a nearby city, and with the repopulation came more problems, including a killer virus that claimed the life of Allexa Smeth’s husband. An unprecedented earthquake during the funeral of Dr. Mark Robbins divided the Upper Peninsula in half, sending billions of gallons of Lake Superior surging into Lake Michigan, resulting in the destruction of many coastal communities.

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25

  CHAPTER 26

  CHAPTER 27

  CHAPTER 28

  CHAPTER 29

  CHAPTER 30

  CHAPTER 31

  CHAPTER 32

  CHAPTER 33

  CHAPTER 34

  CHAPTER 35

  CHAPTER 36

  About the Author

  CHAPTER 1

  April 1

  “What do you mean you’re going on a road trip?” Jason demanded, placing his fists on his hips as his brother Eric scowled at me.

  My two boys, men now, were so much alike yet they were so different. Jason, with his green eyes and dark hair, was outgoing and quick to laugh. Eric, with clear blue eyes and sandy hair like his father, was quiet and reserved, mostly from years spent in the military where he learned to keep his own counsel.

  “Just what I said,” I shot right back. “And don’t you two dare try to tell me what I can and cannot do!” I was tempted to shake my finger at my two adult sons. “Look,” I pleaded with them, “I need to do this. I need to do something. I can’t just sit around all day, every day. Mark is dead, I’m not.”

  My voice hitched saying his name. The flu that swept through Moose Creek late last fall claimed over two hundred lives, including the life of my husband. We had only four months together, four months of love and happiness and I will cherish that time forever.

  “When is this supposed to happen, Mom?” Eric asked, his mouth pulled into a straight line.

  “We haven’t decided yet,” I answered truthfully. “The colonel is antsy to get going, however, I’ve convinced him we need to wait for several reasons. The first and foremost will be the weather. Regardless of how temperate it’s been here, I’m not willing to risk being snow-bound in a tent in the middle of nowhere from a late season storm. Plus, I want to pack carefully and make sure we don’t forget somet
hing vital.”

  “I’m just not sure about you running off with Colonel Jim, Mom. I like him and all, but isn’t it… a bit soon?” Jason frowned.

  “A bit soon for what? Jim is my friend, nothing more, and I resent what you’re implying.” I turned away from them and poured myself another cup of tea, trying to control my temper.

  “I’m sorry, Mom,” Jason said, hugging me from behind. “We worry about you, that’s all.”

  “I know you do, and I appreciate that,” I replied, softening some. “This is something that I don’t need to do, I want to do it! I want to do something new to get my life back. Please understand that.”

  “What can we do to help?” Eric asked, capitulating.

  *

  “Are you sure you want to be doing this, Allex?” Tom White asked.

  “Oh, not you too.” I shook my head and sat down across from the town’s new mayor. “Tom, you’ve been my friend for years. When have I ever done something that I haven’t thought long and hard about?”

  “You married Mark on rather short notice,” he said matter-of-factly, leaning back in his big leather chair.

  “That doesn’t mean I didn’t think it out first.”

  “Is he giving you a hard time, too, Allex?” Colonel Jim Andrews said from the doorway. “Ever since I mentioned this road trip to him, Tom has been trying to talk me out of it.” He came into the room, grabbed the nearest chair and turned it around, straddling it.

  “That’s not true, Jim, I just want you to take someone else. I need Allex here,” Tom said.

  “No you don’t, Tom. I haven’t done anything worthwhile or helpful since… well, in months,” I answered, standing so I could pace. “It’s hard to explain. I want to do something new, something… exciting, before I’m too old to have an adventure.”

  *

  “So, Allex, if I know you at all, you’ve been making lists,” Tom said, while the three of us sat around the kitchen table at the house on the lake later that afternoon.

  I had made dinner at home and brought it over so we could have a planning meeting without my sons interfering. Homemade pasta and a large kettle of spiced venison sat in the center on a folded towel to protect the polished wood from the heat of the pot. The delicate aroma of the cinnamon wafted around the room on the gentle breeze coming off Lake Meade. I set a basket of fresh baked rolls between the two men.

  I took a moment to look at these two men who had become so important in my life. Tom, with his chocolate brown eyes and dark honey colored hair that was inching away from his forehead at an alarming rate, had been my friend for many years. Since he was only in his late forties, it must be the stress, and God knows we’d had enough of that this past year. When we first met during emergency management training, we felt a slight attraction that ended quickly when he met the woman he was to marry. We left our relationship as good friends, never to be anything else.

  And Colonel James Anderson, was fiftyish and married to the military. His steel gray eyes fit his gray buzz-cut hair. Jim’s six foot two frame towered Tom by a good four inches. We met only a year ago when Eric and Emilee arrived unexpectedly at Sawyer Air Force Base after the first of the earthquakes. With Jim’s weekly visits these last few months, on the pretense of playing cribbage, we’ve gotten to know each other well, almost better than I knew Tom. Our relationship, though, is the same: just good friends, never to be anything else. I’ve loved - and lost - two men this past year, my heart won’t allow for anything closer than just friends.

  “Earth to Allex, are you joining us?” Tom laughed and I sat.

  “So what have you come up with for us to take?” Jim tore open a warm yeasty roll and dipped it into the brown gravy that oozed around the venison.

  “It’s only a preliminary list so far, much will depend on how long we’ll be gone. Any idea on that, Jim?” I questioned.

  “I’d say anywhere from two weeks to two months. It shouldn’t take any longer than that to find out what we need to know,” he said around the bite of bread.

  “T-two months??” Tom stammered. “Why so long?”

  Jim gazed at his friend and house mate, and smiled. “Jealous?” he asked with a smirk.

  Tom glanced at him, and then at me. “Yeah, in a way,” he confessed. “I envy the adventure. It gets boring pushing paper around my desk all day.”

  “Tell you what, Tom, if you help us get ready for this, next time you can come with us,” I offered with a chuckle.

  *

  The step-van filled with a store full of liquor that Jim had sent us six months ago when Marquette was evacuated, was steadily depleting. Mark had tagged it The Christmas Truck and we had agreed to keep the contents to ourselves. I know that was a selfish thing to do, but the few of us with access to it truly enjoyed the normalcy it provided, like now, as we sat on the deck overlooking Lake Meade, having an after dinner drink. Besides, had we shared it with the town, it would have been gone in a week and could have caused a multitude of problems.

  “What’s on your list, Allex?” Jim asked, handing me a small glass with lots of ice and a shot of my favorite spiced rum.

  “Well, on the gear and supply list, I have a tent, sleeping bags, air mattress, pillows, two extra blankets, a tarp, kerosene lamp, camp stove, cast iron Dutch oven and fry pan, a cook-kit, tin coffee cups, French press and percolator, Berkey, bucket, flashlights, batteries and matches/lighters… and a can opener.”

  “You do know the Humvee has limited storage space, right?” Jim snickered.

  “Yes. I also know you can remove those two seats in the back. They’re only held in place with turn lock pins,” I replied with a grin.

  “Eric?” he asked.

  “Eric,” I confirmed. Eric has been a wealth of knowledge when it comes to military vehicles. “Besides, all of that will take very little space since it packs into itself.”

  “What about personally? You still need clothes and food,” Tom said.

  “So far on that list I have my medic bag, towel, washcloth, soap, comb, toothbrush and paste, two pair of jeans, sweatpants, hooded sweat shirt, two long sleeve and two short sleeve t-shirts, socks, underwear, shoes and boots, jacket, gloves, rain gear and a hat. All of which fit in my backpack, with the exception of the medic bag, and I’ll be wearing one set of the clothes at any given time.” When my list was met with silence I looked up. “What?”

  “That’s a pretty concise list, Allex, I would have expected more,” Tom said.

  “I grew up camping. We were taught how little you really need. And I’m sure we will be coming across streams and rivers where we can wash what we need to.”

  “I’ve no doubt you’ve already thought about food, right?” Jim asked, the corner of his mouth twitching to hide a smile.

  “Of course. The only thing fresh we’ll take are eggs, and maybe a day or two of meat. Other than that, I think it’s best to take only dried or canned items that don’t need refrigeration, like oatmeal, beans, Spam, tuna, all in disposable containers. Plus, coffee, flour, sugar, yeast, lard, and salt. We should be able to find some food along the way, too. Before we leave I’ll make regular bread and a batch of Ezekiel bread.”

  “What’s that?” Jim asked.

  “It’s a high protein, high fiber batter bread,” I said. “It’s been said that it contains all the nutrients the body needs to survive, and that this was the only food that Ezekiel ate during his journey, Ezekiel 4:9. It’s also rather tasty and because of the lack of certain ingredients, like eggs and milk, it stays fresh a long time.”

  “Sounds like you’ve thought of everything,” Tom murmured quietly.

  “I’m sure there are things I’ve forgotten, Tom, that’s why we three are going over these lists, to fill in the gaps.” I was getting the feeling that Tom was feeling very much left out of our plans. “Anything else you would suggest?”

  “What about fuel?” he asked. I turned to look at Jim. I was not going to be making all the decisions here!

  “The Hu
mmer is a diesel, however it gets lousy mileage, maybe ten miles per gallon. It does have a twenty-five gallon gas tank, though, and with the extra weight of the seats gone,” he glanced at me, “it could be more. That’s two hundred and fifty miles, which covers a lot of ground. We can also strap four or even eight jerry cans to the sides and back, and that would give us an extra twenty to forty gallons.”

  “One of those fuel cans needs to be kerosene for the lantern and camp stove,” I said, writing that down on my list. “What else should I know about the Hummer?”

  “It has four wheel drive of course, and run-flat tires. That’s how I made it back after driving through the fire. There is a second tire within the visual tire and why they’re extra wide. Plus high clearance wheel wells for tactical maneuverability. The body itself is extra wide, a good six feet across. One can sleep widthwise in a pinch.”

  Tom sat a bit straighter in his chair. I think he was starting to get into the planning with us. “Have you considered the possibility of running into other communities or other individuals? What about trade-goods?”

  “What would you suggest?” I asked, facing him so he couldn’t see that was already on my notepad.

  “Nothing we can’t replace, of course, but something useful,” he took a sip from his glass of bourbon and the ice cubes tinkled around the golden liquid.

  “I’ve got enough toothbrushes to last twenty years. I could spare a few,” I said, and wrote that down.

  “I know it’s only been eighteen months since the first earthquake, however, most people weren’t half as prepared as you, Allex. What about something that could now be considered a luxury, like scented soap or razors?” Tom suggested.